Charles Rice Goff III

Bean Dip Yo Yo

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Charles Rice Goff III, aka Swami Loopynanda, has spent his entire musical career as a prodigious and obsessive hometaper, making in various guises, releasing (on his own Taped Rugs Productions label), and swapping tapes of experimental music with other hometapers from around the world. Since the early '90s, he has also worked under his own name, building sound collages out of tape loops. Bean Dip Yo Yo is a compilation of some of those pieces covering the years 1992 to 1999. Despite the time span, the chosen compositions have a sonic cohesion due in part to Goff's distinctly warped worldview, or more correctly, his ability to imagine a warped world and bring it to life like a Frankenstein monster. The songs are inspired amalgams that serve the same overall purpose: creating an alternate universe from virtually nothing. That alternate dimension is part machine-age grind and part stoned ganja stomp, but it is especially a disturbingly militaristic sci-fi dreamscape full of paranoia and impending dread. The fact that it has a deep-seeded sense of humor about itself contributes to the subversiveness of the whole undertaking. "Magic Potty Baby," for instance, marries a corny baby doll commercial from television with an insurgent house beat, but by replaying certain key phrases ("squeeze your potty baby!") ad infinitum, it turns an innocent bit of pop culture detritus into a kind of frightening comment on that culture similar to Aphex Twin in a relentlessly stalking song such as "Milkman." The type of electronic music that Goff's pieces most recall, though, is early Detroit techno. "Orange Nose Cones" could nearly pass for the real thing. The vibrancy in his work comes via the wickedly unconventional juxtapositions he tries. On paper, nothing logically fits together, but Goff nevertheless builds a surreal otherworld in which events take on their own rationale, at once unnervingly believable and impossibly at odds with itself, a fragmented post-apocalyptic nowhere that seems to float off in its own murky ether behind clouds of laboratory smoke.